She'd slept far longer than she had meant to. Sarah stretched and got dressed. She went down to the bar, where she hoped to see Saizu again. Instead she found a pink eyed, blond satyr. "Um... hello. Who are you?"

Takal wouldn't let his master sleep in. She had work to do and he was hungry. He hopped around on her stomach, chortling in crow talk, until she grumbled awake. After a quick shower, the two headed down. "Hello again." She greeted Sarah as she spotted her in the bar room. "Have fun with the kitten the other day?" Sai headed behind the counter to fetch a glass and bowl of water for the girl and the crow.

Sai frowned. "You shouldn't do that. You could hurt yourself. I should know." She tilted her head towards the crow on her shoulder. The bird flew down and happily drank from the bowl in little dips. "Takal? He's about...mmm, seven years old. Give or take. I'd let you pet him but he likes to peck."

The demeanor of the town had certainly caught her attention, its quaint charm as appealing as the ivory clouds floating overhead. The roaming wildlife was just as endearing as she made her way over the vast mountain ranges and rolling hills. But it was the building only a few miles off from Meadow Ridge itself that had truly adorned a smile on her copper tinged lips.

The threads were brimming with energy here as the young woman ran her fingers along their invisible strands. They vibrated with a most curious trill that delighted her with every step she dared to take. And, as it were, she was looking for a meal to coax the rumble out of her stomach. Having reached the porch and meandered over to the front door the lass opened them wide.

In walked the Arro known as Copperkey, her green gaze roaming the foyer of the Rosewood Saber Inn. Ensnared in a weather worn and tan ensemble, Copperkey adjusted the goggles on her head. Careful not to track in too much dirt from her darkened boots, the lass closed the doors behind her and looked around.

"Finally, some place to relax..." She sighed, stretching out her weary limbs.

The kitten did indeed take the blonde up on the offer of both a sleeping spot and the treats. The milk saucer was dry before she had joined in the nap-taking. It also seems that her nap lasted longer than the blonde's. Yuni felt enough relief to just... sleep.

When the groggy feline rejoined the living world, her fur was disheveled and her bright eyes were still glazed over with sleep. Padding into the bar room, she would make a spot for herself by the counter and give a great big yawn. The nice blonde was around, so was Sai and that bird of hers, and a newcomer had come through the door.

Well, now that everyone's about, time to wash. Fuzzy was cute but not... whatever this mess was.

Appearing on the steps of the Inn from thin air, a small framed figure looks around. Was this the place she was was supposed to stay? Probably. The Elf woman in town who she was doing the job for shoved money at her and barked "Inn" and "Lots of Trees"... and then shoved her out the door. Seemed the woman was stressed out with quite the work load. Shrugging small shoulders, the woman slips inside.

Glancing about, she lets out a small whistle. It was nicely furnished... but did look like someone was working on repairing damages. And cleaning up a bit... Turning her head, her eyes land on a doorway that led into a bar room. Well, damages and cleaning up were all part of the Territory when it came to alcohol and people. People could be... stupid. A person is smart... but people are stupid, scared creatures.

Smiling, she walks over to the bar area and looks in. "Allo?" Her accent was VERY distinct. Canadian.

Jenkins was sitting in the bar room, wiping down the bar counter. Then he heard a voice come from the main room, and he walked out, peering his head around. "Hello!" he said. "Welcome to the Rosewood Saber. I am Jenkins, the owner. How can I help you?"

Walking in, the woman makes her way more into view. Looking closer, one could see her skin was extremely pale. Almost deathly... Bright pink eyes peeked out from under black hair. Waving a hand, the robot-thing would be able to see what looked like quick-release holders hanging off her belt... with cans of spray paint hanging from them.

"Well hi there! I was told by this extremely busty Elf to stay here while I wait to do a job for her." Resting her hands on her hips, she looks around. "I'm Beau, Canadian Spray Artist." Her head tips to the side. "What are ya, aye?"

Instantly, regret flooded the poor girl. Obviously, she had said something rude. Coughing lightly against her hand, she reaches up at rubs the back of her neck. Instincts were kicking in, and she was getting a bit nervous. "Ah, no. She handed me a bunch of American money and sent me on m'way... I figured I was supposed t'come set up a room, ey."

Looking down at her shoes, the pink eyed woman tried not to shift uncomfortably. "Pardon my questions earlier. Never seen somethin' like you. I was taken back a bit." Clearing her throat, she looks back up at the Spindle. "Ey, she wanted me to do a giant tribal mural in her shop. Somethin' about her roots or summat."

"Thanks! First three nights are free? That's a weird system... I like it though!" Beau chuckles, and twirls a pen with her fingers like it was a small baton. Leaning down, she signs her name... not realizing how artistically she had done it. As if she were signing a piece of work... Béatrice Gwendolyn St. Clair... kind of a rather long and OLD sounding name. She stretches, and tries to hold back a yawn.

"Food?" A crazy grins spreads across her face. "I love pancakes. And waffles. And syrup. Maple syrup." Her small seemed to stretch across her whole face, and her stomach rumbled... but soon, music started blaring from her back pocket. Reaching back, she presses a button and ceases the magnificent violin solo.

Jenkins nodded when she mentioned pancakes. "I'll get those up for you," he said politely, leaving her to her phone call.

While the pancakes were cooking, he went out to the bar counter, setting a bottle of syrup there for her to use at her convenience. She seemed nice enough. French Canadian as well. Jenkins didn't know where Canada was, so he would keep his mouth shut for the time being.

Taking a seat, the woman leans against the counter, and yawns. No good. She was still so exhausted. Moving around the way she had been... it took a lot out of a person! Trying to teleport to a place you've never been before with a description as vague as "A LOT OF BLOODY TREES GO NOW"... not easy. She almost landed in the damn river. Twice!

Her eyes open, the pink color a bit muddy. Ugh. Humans were not meant to have powers like this. It used up so much energy and left you feeling like crap after doing it too much. She smirks and tries not to snort. Ah, humans. "What stupid stupid creatures we are, ey?"